


a tale of sins (and tragedies)

by Candybara



Series: the war goes on [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gender-neutral Reader, Humor, Oral Sex, Other, Porn, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Teasing, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 02:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10233173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candybara/pseuds/Candybara
Summary: Bones heal, pain is temporary, and scars look good...





	

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I'm addicted to this ficverse. There'll be more than just porn, I promise :b
> 
> (Thank you again to my wonderful friend for helping me out with some of the dialogue ♡)

Jack’s head snaps up when he hears the knock on his door, hollow and loud and characteristic of only one person he knows, and already the thrill in his veins starts to clear away in favor of ice and dread. His mouth goes dry and the heat dusting his cheeks threatens to swell into an inferno, though not so much due to arousal at this point. He curses his luck, and also you, but he doesn’t have the time nor the ability to be angry with you when he feels you swallow around his shaft and promptly _melts_ under the friction of it.

He’d been sure that this was a bad idea the very moment you’d first crawled between his legs, but despite knowing better he couldn’t say no, not when you’d all but handed yourself to him on a silver platter. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about how much he wanted you, how he longed for your touch and your voice and your smile. He was so terribly, painfully addicted to you, and sometimes he swore you knew it because you seemed to have no qualms about making him offers he couldn’t refuse, despite hitting on twenty kinds of debauchery.

It didn’t help that he rarely got to see you these days, more to due sheer misfortune over anything resembling an inconvenience. He hated how busy he was, how busy you were, and most of all he hated how uncanny it was when you appeared in his dreams every night, without fail, almost always scantily clad and seemingly never without the motive or the allure needed to have him soiling his pants like a goddamn teenager.

 _Christ_ , could you be a tease.

Jack feels you hum around him as he pulls at your hair, pushing his chair in to force you farther under his desk, but your mouth is so hot and so wet and it stays on him, and he has to grit his teeth to hold in the groan that threatens to tear from his chest. It’s even worse when he realizes that he’s only going to be allowed a second to compose himself before Gabriel’s twisting the knob to his door open, stepping inside Jack’s office with neither permission nor invitation.

Gabriel looks him up and down and Jack’s never been more thankful that his desk is only open on one side, though the way he’s hunched over it almost certainly isn’t helping to distract from the sweat beading at his brow or the shudder clutching at his spine. He’s quite nearly filled with relief when you grant him a moment of respite, letting your lips slide off him in favor of dragging the flat of your tongue up the underside of his shaft. His thighs still twitch at the sensation, but the electricity in his core is much more manageable now that he isn’t fighting to keep from bucking into your mouth.

“R-Reyes!” Jack clears his throat, trying his best to sound hospitable as well as inconspicuous to a degree. He fails at both when the next thing out of his mouth is, “What do you want?”

Gabriel simply stares, looking unamused as all hell if the scowl on his face is anything to go by. Then again, he almost always looks vaguely annoyed at whoever he’s speaking to, whether he actually is or not.

“I’m doing fine, Jack. Thanks for asking,” he deadpans, and Jack can’t even pin down the irony in Gabriel’s tone before you’re flicking your tongue over the tip of his length and he’s all but jolting out of his chair. _Fuck_. Jack swears he feels a chuckle in the tickle of your breath, and Gabriel’s just looking at him like he’s gone crazy. Maybe he has, no thanks to you.

Gabriel’s almost certainly expecting an explanation, but Jack just clears his throat and tries not to make eye contact. He also tries to pretend that he isn’t extremely red in the face at that moment, but in the end he knows a lost cause when he sees one. You’re running your tongue along the ridge of his shaft now and he makes a choked sound in the back of his throat, one that he quickly attempts to pass off as a dry cough. It’s probably not very convincing, but Jack desperately hopes that Gabriel will simply chalk the other’s bizarre behavior up to ‘typical white boy antics’.

“…Anyway,” Gabriel starts, after a moment. “I just wanted to let you know that—”

Jack isn’t listening. Gabriel talks on but all Jack hears is the blood pounding in his ears as you fist his length, thumb sweeping over the head on every upstroke. He thinks he hears the words ‘Blackwatch’ and ‘operation’ and ‘setback’, but he can’t find it in him to focus on what Gabriel’s saying, even though it’s probably something he should be concerned about. Gabriel wouldn’t bother telling him otherwise.

Jack nods mindlessly and Gabriel knows that he may as well be conversing with a brick wall, but he's there for a reason and he really doesn't give a shit that Jack's clearly counting the minutes until he leaves. He also doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jack so visibly flustered in his life, and if nothing else it’s incredibly entertaining, even if he hasn’t quite managed to decipher the cause of it yet.

Jack has tried and failed to stifle at least six full-body tremors since Gabriel started going on about what he's pretty sure by now is an informal mission debriefing (Gabriel does this frequently enough, Jack realizes, to where he probably should've expected it sooner), and he supposes he never was very good at keeping secrets, but right now it’s hard to manage even the most mundane of tasks when you’re doing _this_ with your hand and _that_ with your tongue. His breath hitches and he swears he sees Gabriel narrow his eyes and _fuck, please don’t put the pieces together_.

Jack presses his lips firmly together, but when he feels you take his length halfway down your throat he can only thread his fingers through your hair, tugging at your scalp with a rushed sort of urgency because he knows he won’t last much longer at this rate, and if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to do, it’s to come completely undone in front of his best fucking friend. He works to force down the groan that’s managed to lodge itself in the back of his throat before shifting uneasily in his chair, hoping you’ll get the hint and go easy on him. Jack doesn’t even notice that Gabriel’s stopped talking at first until he starts up again with an entirely different tone.

“Everything alright there, Jack?” Jack glances up and feels his heart sink because now Gabriel’s got that fucking smirk on his face. Goddamnit. “You’re _awfully_ squirmy.”

Jack swallows thickly as you tongue at his length, slower now though not exactly better, given that he’s been dropped miserably in the middle of a lose-lose situation. The selfish, carnal part of him bares its teeth as you edge him out, and the more the stimulation wanes the more he despises Gabriel for refusing to leave him the hell alone. Never mind the fact that this could’ve all been avoided if he’d simply taken half a moment to make sure you’d locked the fucking door upon entering.

“Y-yeah,” Jack breathes, sweating bullets now even despite the considerable wash of relief in his core. “Just… long day, y’know?”

“ _Uh-huh_.” Gabriel quirks a brow, both looking and sounding utterly unconvinced. _Shit_. Jack tries not to panic too much as he turns his gaze to the floor beneath Gabriel’s feet.

“…Anything else you’re here for?” Jack manages, which Gabriel immediately recognizes as code for _get the fuck out of my office_. He feigns an expression of thoughtfulness and it’s all Jack can do to keep from grinding his teeth together, feeling his knuckles turn white around the grip in your hair. You try not to moan through the pressure, though you can’t lie and say you’re not tempted to do it anyway, on purpose. But you know you’ve tortured him enough already, so instead you focus on relaxing your throat and taking him deeper (a different kind of torture, you decide), and Jack just about hates you for making him cut it so close.

“Nah,” Gabriel says, after what felt like ages. “I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you have _important Strike-Commander_ _business_ to take care of.”

Jack very nearly breathes a sigh of relief, but the taunt puts him on edge, even more so than before, and a flash of guilt joins the arousal that sits heavy in his core. Gabriel’s back is finally turned but Jack still feels wary and vulnerable, far more than he’s normally comfortable tolerating. He’s not in the clear, not yet, despite how desperately he wants this all to be over. He makes a mental note to scold you later, but all he does right now is bite his lip and _god,_ _had you always been able to take that much of him_?

It’s almost too cruel when Jack sees Gabriel’s figure stop just in front of the door, not quite looming, but ominous, vaguely, and it’s then that he has to hold his breath to keep from outright cursing in exasperation.

“Oh, and Jack?” Gabriel turns to throw a suggestive glance towards Jack, who looks up at the other expectantly, impatiently. “Yeah, try to keep it down.”

Jack almost breaks out in a cold sweat. “Wh-what?”

“Don’t pretend you’re quiet when you get off.” Gabriel smirks. “I shared a room with you in bootcamp, you know.”

Jack feels your throat tighten around him as you splutter, nearly choking on him in an attempt to keep your laughter down to a mere snort, but it’s a feat you mostly fail to accomplish despite knowing that the poor man is probably dying of embarrassment right about now. He jolts as your teeth graze him and you’re quick to stroke his thighs in an apologetic manner, but Gabriel’s already sliding out of Jack’s office with a sassy wave and a devilish grin.

He pointedly leaves the door open, much to Jack’s mortification.

“Gabe?” Jack calls out, a bit hoarsely, still reeling from the shock of it all. “Gabe, close the goddamn door! Gabe! Gabriel!”

Jack hears the echo of Gabriel’s cackle from halfway down the hall, and if not for how painfully aroused you’d gotten him already, he might have gone soft from humiliation alone.

 _What a fucking disaster_.

**Author's Note:**

> “It’s not the end of the world, Jack.” 
> 
> _Yes it is_ , Jack thinks as he sits with his head in his hands, hunched over the tiny coffee table in Ana’s quarters. The tea she’d brewed for him has probably gone cold by now, and he honestly can’t find it in him to care. 
> 
> His posture is atrocious and he’s almost certain that Ana wants to tell him to sit up straight and act like an adult, but at the moment his endless brooding is really the only thing stopping him from actually getting up and dragging his poor, miserable self into the nearest hole in the ground. Maybe he should’ve done that from the very beginning, instead of letting you under his desk. Everything would’ve probably worked out better for him, even if you were _inhumanly_ good with your tongue. 
> 
> Ana tells him he’s being overdramatic, and it’s then that Jack realizes he doesn’t know exactly how much of what he’s thought has also been said out loud. He feels his face flush hot, but takes solace in the fact that Ana seems unfazed, even despite the very real possibility of him having just run his mouth off far more than could conceivably be considered appropriate.
> 
> “What happened to my self-control, Ana?” Jack rakes his fingers through his hair. “I’m such a fucking idiot for letting… _that_ happen.”
> 
> He hardly even registers the pat of consolation Ana presses to his back.
> 
> “Don’t be silly,” she says, in that matter-of-fact tone of hers that always makes Jack feel better (or worse, depending on the situation). “We’ve all been in your position at one time or another.”
> 
> Jack looks at her in horror, and Ana hides a smile behind the rim of her teacup.


End file.
